Absurdity?
by Ellie-Ohhh
Summary: "GET THE HELL OFF ME!" the whole cafeteria went silent. That was something that never happened. This made Warren pick his head up and stare confusingly at the door awaiting the arrival of what was to come. There were bangs against the door... W/OC
1. Absurdity?

Hey there! I've decided to revamp this story. Reading it over, it kind of made me cringe haha so I'm going to be making changes. Most will probably be subtle, and others might be bigger to notice. I've just grown so much as a writer since I started Absurdity? that I just feel the need to make this better. I've already done chapters 1-4. You don't have to re-read or re-review if you don't want to. The story is basically exactly the same, just with better wording and grammar.

Ideas, comments, concerns, anything is helpful.

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* * *

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**_Absurdity: _**

_A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_

_--_

_Buzz, buzz, buzz_, _talk, talk, talk, giggle, giggle, giggle, clang, clatter…_

Warren put his head against the cool table in the cafeteria. He had the worst headache ever, he was sure of it. Even worse than that time he beat up Ernie McLaughlin for starting with him. And all the chatter around him wasn't exactly helping either.

So far his day wasn't going as well as he'd hoped. It was a month into the new school year and it was drama once again at Sky High. After Homecoming the year went on boring as usual, Will and Layla constantly fondling each other, the others never leaving him alone, beating people up…the list went on.

The only good thing that had happened, well he wasn't so sure about that one anymore…, was that he went out with Katelyn Good. She was 5'6, blond, thin, leggy, ice powers, Perfect. Until now that is. They dated on and off after Homecoming, always breaking up yet always getting back together.

Now, Warren had made plenty of his fair share of mistakes, but the biggest by far was not going out with Katelyn Good, but breaking up with her. She was hot, of course, the sex was great. But that was it…he wanted more than just a good fuck. He need more than that, he needed a girlfriend that was like him. That new what it was like to be feared, to know how it was only growing up with one parent. He just couldn't do it anymore, the non-stop talk about what the cheerleaders said, about what new fashion was in the stores, about what her perfectly rich parents said about him today.

He just couldn't take it, she was driving him mad. So he did the most logical thing he could think of to solve his perfect princess sparkle Barbie problem, he broke up with her. He had tried to get her away from her stupid bimbo friends, but she wouldn't budge. When she was with them she was a whole other person, she was better than him, she was a Barbie.

He tried to tell her, he really did, so there he was standing at the end of her lunch table. Her blue eyes staring up at him with a 'Why are you bothering me in front of my friends' look. So he did it, right then and there, in front of all her perfect friends and the rest of the cafeteria. And that was why he was in this current position, with his head down against the cool table, with the worst headache in history. He new she planned to make his life a living hell, well that's what she said when he broke it off, right before she threw an ice ball at his face.

He was walking to his fourth period class when he saw her in the hallway. She was with her friends, a.k.a. the Blonde Barbies of Sky High. They were the rich girls whose idol was Paris Hilton and main power was spending daddy's money. They were five of the hottest girls in school, every man, boy, teacher, wanted them. They talked with a certain air, which made you feel less than them, that let you know where they came from, who there fathers were.

Warren really thought that Kate was going to be different; she wasn't like the others, well when she wasn't around them anyway. They walked in a group, hips swaying, heals clicking, mouths talking. She eyed him as he walked on the other side of the hallway; she was their head mean girl now. She had a flare about her, and that flare was revenge. She was going to get him back for hurting her like that, for embarrassing her in front of the whole school.

So she was going to start small, she iced the part of the hallway where he was walking while their gaze was connected. He slipped and fell on his back, hard. And as he was falling he hit his head against the lockers, hence the headache. As he laid there trying so hard to keep up his Zen, not showing his true emotion, all he could hear was laughter coming from the group and soon everyone else. He opened his eyes and looked at her, as her smug smirk was growing as he got up and growled. Zack came over and helped him to the nurses' office, not asking Warren anything in fear that he might take out his pent up rage on him. And that would NOT be a pleasant sight, at all.

So here he was now, sitting at the same table he'd sat at forever, waiting for the "Gang", as they liked to call themselves, to show up. He was really considering going home early…or maybe he should just sleep. Yes, that sounded like a wonderful idea, best he'd heard all day. As he started to drift off into sleep there was a loud bang on the nice cold table. He lifted his head prepared to murder whoever it was that disturbed him, and found that it was Layla. He sighed it was only harmless, giddy, excited, Layla.

"Hey Warren, you okay?" asked his best friend's girlfriend. She looked at him with confusion and pity in her hazel eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired." He laid his head back down on the table. Just then Zack came over and put his stuff down on the table next to Layla.

"Yeah, if you call getting a beat down by Katelyn Good in the middle of the hallway 'fine' then yea he's just dandy." Layla's mouth dropped a little as she looked at her poor Warren.

Ever since homecoming Layla and Warren had become very close. He could tell her most things that bothered him, and she could tell him her fears and dreams about Will. He was like her older brother that she always wanted but never got. The others had showed up only a little while ago, and were listening as Zack went into great detail about what exactly happened in the hallway. Everyone made faces at each other since Warren was right there they couldn't flat out say anything in fear he would yell, or possibly hit.

"So, what's up?" he asked his voice slightly muffled by his face connecting with the table.

"Oh, nothing waiting for the new student to show, they asked me to show her around." Layla said proudly.

She was the good girl; she loved school and doing homework. Layla was like the Gwen of 10th grade, only without the whole skitzo super villain other side thing. She was promoted to hero classes after homecoming and had them with Will and some even with Warren. She was on the schools year book committee, the service club, and even the school store. So really it was no shocker that they asked Layla of all people to show the new student around.

"That just sounds so enthralling that I think I might throw up." Layla, still lost in her sea of excitment, didn't catch his muffled sarcasm.

"I know!" she turned to the others and looked around. "Hey, has anyone seen Will?"

Will Stronghold, her boyfriend, best friend, and his best friend as well. They became pretty close last year, and they hung out most of the summer, when he wasn't working. Will was that star kid you always see in movies. The one where he's the hero, even though all he wants is to be normal. Yup, that's Will. He became really popular after saving everyone's life, but he never forgot who his real friends were. That's why him and Will were amazingly close now, they were that close they even did the whole sleepover thing. Although they would never admit it anyone, they were just too manly, it would ruin the image; but it was nice to be able to have someone to talk to.

"No, sorry babe I haven't, not since this morning." That's when they heard it, a scream coming from the hallway outside the doors of the cafeteria.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!"

The whole cafeteria went silent. That was something that _**never **_happened. This made warren pick his head up and stare confusingly at the door awaiting the arrival of what was to come. There were bangs against the door; he assumes was the cause of someone kicking it. As if on que Will burst through the doors carrying a screaming girl with long red curls and bright green eyes. He had her back against his chest picking her up with ease.

"PUT ME DOWN YOU STUPID ASS."

Her hands were bound behind her back and Warren watched as Will brought her over to the empty table next to theirs. The whole room started breaking out in whispers. He plopped her down on one of the benches, and she landed with an 'oof'. Her hair falling out of her messy bun, making little tendrils of red escape in front of her face, she blew them away and stared at Will menacingly. From behind them came Principal Powers and Coach Boomer, looking flustered as ever.

"Everyone may I have your attention. Everyone." But everyone was still talking,

"QUIET." Coach Boomer yelled. Principal Powers looked and him. "Thank you." She looked around, and with a stern voice she continued.

"As you may or may not know, we have a new student arriving today." She pointed to the girl Will had brought in. Her hands were still bound behind her back so she just stared at everyone as everyone stared back.

"Her name is Misha Evans." She turned to look at her.

"Misha, why don't you come up here and introduce yourself?" she gave the principal a dirty look.

"I really don't think that's necessary ma'am." Principal Powers gave her a look that said

'Do it or feel my wrath.' So she walked up next to her and gave the biggest, fakest smile she could muster.

"Hi. I'm Misha. I don't want to be here, and you don't want me here. So stay out of my way and we won't have problems." Everyone in the room was speechless, no one new what to say exactly.

"Now if your Principal thinks it's alright to untie me, I would just love to get to know some of you better." She looked over at Warren and licked her lips, in an almost sexual fashion. With one eyebrow raised and his mouth slightly open, Warren was thoroughly confused.

Principal Powers gave the girl called Misha a look and then smiled brightly at the cafeteria filled with confused and wondering eyes as she untied her hands. She was almost done untying the magic rope when she pulled Misha's ear close to her mouth.

"Now if I find that you used any of your powers on _anyone _you will be thrown out of here faster than you could breathe. Do you understand me?" Misha gave her the most innocent look she could and nodded slowly.

"I understand, completely."

She let go of the rope and called Layla over. "Layla this is Misha, the new student I was telling you about. Misha she's going to show you around, and I'm sure you will show her nothing but kindness. I'm I correct in assuming this?"

Misha looked back and forth between Powers and this girl Layla. She eyed Layla as she clucked her tongue. "Uh huh."

"Good, well then Layla I'm leaving her with you. Have a good first day Misha."

She turned to walk away with coach Boomer when she suddenly turned around.

"Oh and Layla, make sure she doesn't get into any trouble alright."

They walked out and the cafeteria lapsed into talk once again, only this time they all had something new to gossip about. Layla smiled so big Misha wasn't sure her face could contain it. She looked her over; she had auburn hair that was somehow braded into weird twists. She was wearing a green overall dress thing, with black leggings. She didn't look that bad, but she was defiantly not the kind of kid she would usually associate out with. But then again, she didn't associate with anyone, so it didn't really matter.

"I think we are going to be great friends. Come on I'll introduce you to the rest of the gang." As she was pulling Misha over to the table she started yelling, with obvious disgust at the idea. "I don't do friends, sorry to dissapoint you."

The girl named Layla chuckled softly. "Everyone has friends silly, and there's always room for more." She smiled bright and pushed her into a sitting position across from Warren.

"Well for starters I'm Layla. But you already knew that. This right here is Zack."

She pointed to a teen with obnoxiously blond hair, and even more obnoxious clothing. He stuck his hand out to shake. She eyed it, and then growled at him. Zack brought his hand back and looked at Layla and Will. "Ohh kay…"

"Uhh, this over here is Magenta…" the next of this bunch was a very unhappy looking girl with back and well…magenta hair. 'How cliché.' She thought. The girl with colored hair didn't even bother extending her hand or saying hello, she took one look at Misha and walked away.

"…I guess she had to use the restroom…haha…" Layla laughed nervously.

"Well I assume you already met Will, and this is Warren."

Warren had been staring at her the whole time; she was gorgeous yes, but time bomb. One wrong word and BOOM, your history. Warren was very intrigued.


	2. Freaks?

* * *

**_Absurdity: _**

_A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_

_--_

"And this is Warren. Warren, Misha." She eyed him up and down with a slight smirk on her lips.

"What's up with that hair?"

"What's up with that attitude?" Warren countered back. She may have been hot, but he wasn't up for this. Back talk, sarcasm, and snarky remarks were his forte and he never took it from anyone else. He got enough of it from his father, well the twice a year he saw him anyway…

Her smirk fell, but only for a moment, and she smirked once again. "Ya know, I kinda like you. You have balls, not many people would talk back."

"I would assume the having of my balls would be obvious, but then again I haven't stood up yet."

"Wow, balls and a sense of humor, you just got the whole package dontcha? Oh and no pun intended on that one."

Will started laughing, but with one look from Warren he instantly turned it into a cough. Warren was about to come back with some witty comment when the bell rang for the next period. The whole cafeteria, still gossiping about the arrival of Misha, walked out threw the double doors she kicked open.

"Come on Misha, I'll walk you to your next class." Layla stood Misha up and was leading her out.

"Can I have your schedule?" Misha yanked her arm out of Layla's grasp.

"Superman has it." Layla looked confused.

"Superman?"

"Yeah him." She pointed to Will.

"You mean Will?" He walked over at the sound of his name. "Yeah?" Layla just shook her head.

"Whatever, umm do you have her schedule?" He handed her the slip of paper.

"Oh, you're in all hero classes. I don't even have most of these…but Warren does." She looked up from the paper and smiled at the red head.

"I guess its just fate huh?"

"I don't believe in fate."

Layla's smile never faltered at the girl.

"Come on, I'll walk you to class. You have chemistry now."

They walked threw the halls, Layla making sure to point out every detail along the way, when they finally reached the room 218. The two girls went in, Layla handed the Professor Misha's schedule. The class burst into whispers and hushed tones. Warren in the way back leaned back in his chair, his face expressionless.

"Alright thank you Ms. Evans go sit with….uhh…go sit in the back next to Mr. Peace please."

"Sure thing teech."

"It's Mr. Rivers." He stated expectantly.

"Sure it is." She winked at him and walked back to Warren.

"Just can't get enough of me can ya?" She sat down on the stool next to him.

"Flirting? And here I was under the impression that you didn't like me."

"Hate you? I told you earlier today that I liked your spunk Big Bird."

"Big Bird?" He looked clearly confused and even slightly offended.

"Yeah, Big Bird. You strike me as the leader of your little…breakfast club."

"I see…so is this a habit of yours or do you rename everyone you meet?" she could tell he was still clearly confused at this whole situation.

"Everyone. I have a problem with names, I guess its from never staying in one place for too long, so I just rename people things I can remember." She didn't even notice the tiny slip up about her personal history she leaked out.

"Like that strong kid that carried me in, yeah that's Superman."

"Will?"

She took a piece of paper out of his binder. "Sure, him." He was staring at her expectantly.

"What about the others?"

She sighed, and looked as though in deep concentration. "The emo one I shall call Vampira, for obvious reasons. The bright excited child I shall call Baby GAP, because he looks like he bought all his clothing from the Baby GAP. And the over achiever that wears too much green…well she'll just have to be the over achiever who wears too much green for now."

Warren chuckled at her, not something he did very often either.

"Layla? I just call her Green Peace most of the time."

Misha shook her head in approval. "Yeah, that works too." The teacher Mr. Rivers started talking and writing on the chalkboard. Soon enough he was on one of his rampages about testing bio-hazardous products in city based areas instead of remote locations. These usually lasted most of the period, so this could be a good time to get to know the new girl sitting nest to him doodling on the piece of paper.

If she was calling him 'Big Bird' he decided he was calling her 'Red'. She leaned over and whispered to him.

"Look at Laguna Beach over their." She was referring to the Barbies that sat in the front of the room.

"Their all wearing either skirts, heels, or flip flops. Yeah, good pair of shoes to have on when it's RAINING…idiots."

Unknown to the two of them, their comments and conversation was heard by none other than, Katelyn Good, and that unfortunately was never good.

--

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, today was finally Friday and the students just couldn't wait for the bell at 2:15. No one was used to Misha yet, they all still whispered and most freshmen were still afraid of her. It was five days into her stay her at Sky high and Warren already caught her skipping class.

She was walking down the hallway, it was empty, mid-fifth-period, or so she thought. Her big black boots were the only thing she heard. She was dressed "quite strangely" according to the girls in her classes. It was probably because she wore guy's biker boots, and skin tight black jeans with tank tops that just showed a little too much of what gets the testosterone running. She carried no school books, no book bags, and no purses. She wouldn't be bothered with silly things like textbooks and required reading. No, never. She was one her way outside to try and find a place to have a smoke, when she heard someone behind her. She kept walking assuming it was a teacher.

"Excuse me miss, but may I see your hall pass?" She turned around lazily and rolled her eyes. She was surprised to see not a teacher, or Coach Boomer but, Warren? He stood there, his hands in the pockets of the leather jacket he wore everyday.

"Big Bird? What are you doin' here?" she raised one eyebrow at him.

"I asked for your hall pass." His face in complete seriousness.

She smiled and held up her left hand. In between her fingers held a cigarette. Warren's face instantly brightened.

"I like the way you think. Come on I'll show you 'The Dome.' " he walked passed her, knowing she would follow.

They snuck out, down in the basement where Warren's 'spot' was. It wasn't until they were out of sight, headed for their secret location that someone walked out of the bathroom up the hall.

--

The basement was cold and gloomy; there were no windows and a draft seeping in from somewhere. There were all cement walls with a slimy coating and extra desks and tables everywhere. Misha didn't care though, she'd lived through worst. But it did provide a good place to have a smoke or drink so booze. Warren sat down on one of the desks, and Misha pulled out her pack. She handed one to Warren and went to reach for her lighter when he stopped her.

"Here, let me." Warren insisted. He snapped his fingers fire appeared out of what seemed like thin air. If it had been anyone else he was sure it would've impressed them, but because it was Misha she smirked and rolled her eyes and whispered what sounded like "Show off." He lit his and she lit hers.

"I keep forgetting that everyone else is a freak here too…" she took a long drag from the cigarette.

"Freaks?" Warren wasn't sure he understood.

She shrugged her thin shoulders. "I guess that's just how I see these powers we have. There ridiculous, some are big some are small some are stupid and others could kill people. I don't understand why everyone in this damn school is so obsessed with Heroes and Sidekicks. It honestly doesn't even matter cause were all the same any way, were all freaks."

He stared at her face, she was utterly too pale and had a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and check bones. She emerald eyes looked haunted and told a story beyond her years. It was this moment from when she looked up into his eyes, he thought of a plan. He would find out everything about his girl it didn't matter if it killed him. It was almost like a magnet pulling in his face and lower abdomen. Her check bones started to color as his face got closer. He was so close now, only a slow second and -

BANG,

The door to the basement burst open and in came Principal Powers and Coach Boomer.

"See, I told you I saw them come down here. Shame on them." And from behind them came Katelyn, smirking ever so slightly. Principal Powers gave the two of them the biggest death glare before screaming,

"IN MY OFFICE, **NOW**."


	3. Offices?

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* * *

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_**Absurdity: **__A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_

Misha didn't say a word as Coach Boomer carried them up stairs by their arms. Katelyn Good walked in front of them with Principal Powers talking about how she 'always knew Warren had a bad streak in him' and that it was her 'duty as class president to help "fix" messes'. Warren and Misha both knew it was a load of bull shit, but only warren knew that she was doing this to get back at him. And from the look in her eyes, this was just the beginning. They were sat down in chairs, told not to move or say a word. Coach Boom and Katelyn walked out, leaving the two young adults alone with their Principal.

She sighed rubbing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I am very, very disappointed in the both of you." Neither of them breathed. She looked at them, then to Warren. "And you Mr. Peace, don't think that just because you helped save the school last year your off the hook. Now, I told you that the next time you get detention it would be your last did I not?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Now, when I am through with you two, I will call your mother and you will not return to school on Monday or three days after that, do you understand me?"

Warren started intently at her and rolled his eyes. "I'm getting suspended for skipping class, don't you think that's a little much?"

"Not only were skipping class, for what is your hundredth and sixteenth time, but you were also caught smoking on school ground, AND to top it all off with the new student who--" She didn't finnish her sentence she rounded on Misha forgetting momentarily about Warren.

"And **you**. What do you think your doing skipping class. You've only been in school for what, a week and you already decide that my classes are too dull to attend. And I know exactly what you were about to do, and you know exactly what it would've done. I thought we were clear about your powers, you were not to use them on _anyone_. I am thoroughly, thoroughly dissapointed with you and your lack of care. So your punishment is not to stay home, as you would like I'm sure, but it is to attend school everyday. So until I find you perfectly capable of doing so your self, you shall be attending all your classes with an escort. And you both shall serve Saturday detention with in the white room."

She sighed again, asked Warren to leave and wait in the Central Office for his mother. Principal Powers desired to speak to Ms. Evans alone. Warren the left the office giving Misha one last look before shutting the door.

"Misha, what on God's green earth did you think you were doing?" Misha didn't awnser. Infact she wasn't quite sure herself. When she was with Warren she felt at ease, comfortable, like she wasn't coming out of her own skin. Which was something very dangerous indeed, something that needed watching.

"Well? Answer me." She shook her head.

"I...I don't know." It was probably the lamest and most over-used phrase a child could say to a teacher or guardian, and she used it.

"Misha. I'm here for you. I told you this when you first arrived in my office two weeks ago for the interview. If you want to talk, I'll listen." Misha's eyes wandered down to her brothers old biker boots, she found them rather interesting at the moment. Her eyes were unguarded, something she usually never let happen yet she found her self doing more often. Her emerald eyes were soft, and Principal Powers found that this might be an opportune time to try unlock her mystical mind.

"Misha, the tragedy that happend to your parents was horrific, but in no way shape or form your faul--"

She was cut off by Misha. As soon as she said the word 'tragedy' Misha instantly closed up. Her eyes became cold and hard, her posture was no longer sulky or confused, but stiff and ridged. She no longer found the black boots interesting but rather her teacher.

"I'm fine thanks."

Principal powers was clearly taken aback, at her lack of empathy.

"Oh, well, right. I, uh, shall call for your brother to come and pick you up."

Misha replied quite lazily. "He's at work, you'll have to call him there, although I'm sure he won't be too pleased. I'll go sit in the office." And with that Misha left the office, leaving a slightly confused and rather annoyed Principal in her office.

She searched for a stack of papers and pulled out two. She picked up the phone and dialed the number on the frist sheet.

--

Misha walked out into the Central Office and down a few seats away from Warren. She didn't want to sit next to him, he was somehow finding away around the steady wall she'd built up. She'd only known him a couple of days and he was already making her feel welcome and wanted. She didn't like it, she didn't like the way he made her smile. So they waited in the office for their rides, never saying a word.

The clocked ticked on the wall, and the typing of keyboards were the nosies heard in the big room, beside the occasional cough from the very old lady managing the front desk.

A terribly good looking young man with dark red hair walked into the office. He appered with dirty hands and grease on his t-shirt. His crystal eyes darted over to Misha and harden when they met hers.

"Can I help you Mr. ...?"

"Oh, yes, Greg Evans. I was called to come down and pick up my sister Misha Evans, apparently she got in trouble."

"Ah, yes. She's right over there. Now if you'll just sign her out here, there you go. Have a nice day Mr. Evans."

The older women winked at Greg as he wiped his hands on his shirt and signed his name on the sign out sheet. He tried to smile, but it managed to come out more of a grimace.

"Come on Misha, lets go." She got up and walked over to him, he grabbed her by the arm and started to yell at her in hushed tones. Warren watched them leave as his own mother walked in.

--

any ideas, thoughts.

hit me up.


	4. Detentions?

* * *

**_Absurdity: _**

_A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_

_--_

"Get in the car, and don't say a word."

Her brother was using that low rough voice that he used when she was in trouble. She yanked her arm out of his strong grasp and sighed as she got into the passengers seat. She rolled her eyes and put on her seat belt. Greg got into the drivers seat and started up the car before turning to look at her.

"Well, are you going to explain yourself or am I just going to have to pry it out of you?"

Misha's eyes never left the road in front of her, they were cold and hard no emotion seeping through.

"And what would you like me to explain Gregory?"

His furious eyes went between her and the road, she must've been joking right?

"Oh, I don't know let's start with the fact that you were skipping class with a boy, smoking in school, and using your powers when you know damn well what you can do!" He banged his hand on the steering wheel for emphasis.

"I never used my powers! If I did don't you think he'd be dead?!"

"Well your principal said you came pretty damn close! And what is this about you smoking with a boy? Hmm?"

"Nothing Gregory, he's just a...friend."

It was awkward to say...were they friends? She assumed he believed so...they had every class together and hung out in school together...but did she want to be his friend?

She never truly had any friends before...

Her inner self told her it was true, she never did have many friends, whatever that term actually meant. All because of the tragedy.

This tragedy ruled her life, along with "Dark Alessa." It ruled her thoughts and her mind, it never slept and could never die it seemed. And it was slowly killing her.

"Friends? You? Misha I'm not sure how I feel about that. Not after the tragedy... I am not letting you go through that again. I knew putting you back in school was a bad idea."

--

He arrived at the school a little late, his old El Camino parked in the student parking. He walked inside and into the white room where Principal Powers and Misha sat waiting for him.

"Ah, Mr. Peace how kind of you to finally show. Now please take the seat next to Ms. Evans and we shall get started yes."

It wasn't a question, more of a direct demand. There was this sarcasm in her voice as she handed them each some paper and a pen.

"Now were going to try something a little different today. You shall be writing me an essay. An essay no less than 1000 words. Describing to me one of the most famous Heroes or Sidekicks in history. And explaining how they became famous. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

Warren said pulling the scarf from around his neck. He shrugged off his leather jacket, trying to get comfortable. Misha had her feet up on her desk, a bored look on her pretty face and she was examining her finger nails.

For a whole moment she looked exactly like Katelyn. Looking at her nails, a 'whatever' look in her eyes.

It frightened him to some degree, how was it possible for two polar opposites of beings have the same mannerisms? Of course, due to his inner James Dean, he would never admit that to anyone. But he couldn't help but stare at her from the corner of his golden eyes.

Principal Powers glanced down at her watch, then to Misha and Warren.

"Its now 8 o'clock, you have 5 hours to think about the errors you have caused."

Misha rolled her crystal eyes and Warren sighed, this was going to be a long day he could feel it.

"I will be in my office, but I will be checking on you periodically. There will be no monkey business or inappropriate behavior, do you understand me?

There was a chorus of 'Yes, principal Powers' before she finnally left them in peace.

-------------------------------------------------------------

A paper football made its way across the room, from where Warren's head lay on the desk boredom in his golden eyes.

He really was a stunning creature, from his lanky brown hair to that rebel of a red streak in it. His eyes were a golden color, it was strange but beautiful. He was tall and lean with strong arms and body language. He was broad without being bulky and had a dangerous feel to him. She was intrigued, he was tough and sardonically wonderful in the way he spoke.

She wondered how a darkiling like him ever went out with a yuppie like her. They just seemed to be opposites in every way. It was odd in a sense, to out them in terms understandable to most people would have to be: Paris Hilton moshing out with Alice Cooper at a Marylin Manson concert.

Just wrong.

As gorgeous as the wolf sitting next to her was, she wasn't sure what he wanted. She didn't know what he was playing at, she was paranoid but with good reason. Things from her past that never let go, they held on tight like a drowning man on a life preserver. She barely thought of those things, things that could make people cry or gasp in fear. Oh how she wished she could let those all go, and be the normal teenage darling that she always dreamed she could be.

In her inner most thoughts, in her dreams and asides, she was a tall smiling girl with bright eyes and a passion for life. She would have a curl to her hair, naturally flattering down and flowing, not up and hidden. Eyes shinning full of love.

Love, something she could never feel outside of her brother, something she could always dream of or pretend.

A sneeze from her partner in crime, registered her back into reality. What was this boy doing to her? Making her think of these things, making her want things, making her relive things. The little bit was indeed formidable and for that, she decided, he must go.

--

_Click, click, click_

_It was dark, pitch black. The air was thick with the coming onslaught. Her head was aching; she rolled over on to her back. That's when she first realized that she was on the ground, the cold hard wet ground. It smelled of smoke and dust, like a basement or a factory of some sort. The stench of rotting flesh and spilled blood hung in the air. I wasn't until she inhaled deeply that she realized that the smell was coming from her own body._

_It was happening again, __**she**__ was getting stronger and that was never a good sign. _

_She stood up, or attempted to anyway, before she was struck down yet again by the invisible force. Well she wasn't so invisible anymore. The lights came up in what appeared to be an old warehouse, beaten down and used. There was blood along the floor and different deadly devices, used and some new. _

_She had been her before, many times in fact. She practically lived here in her dreams, and knew exactly what was coming._

_The bleeding from her lip wouldn't stop; she put her hand to it and watched as the crimson thread flowed from her mouth. She looked all around her, where was she? It wasn't like her not to watch and take pride in her wonderful work._

_It was almost scarier not to see her, then to actually see her. Then there would be not anticipation for what was to come, what was to morph into darkness right in front of your very eyes._

_And there she was, in all her glory, dark tresses hanging loosely around her shoulders and back. Eyes black pools of tar, it seemed. She was paper white and wore a purple school dress, which was much too small on her older female form. The girl looked no older than twenty, but she knew that the girl was much older, much, much older._

"_Now, now…darling…" _

_There was a smirk on her ruby lips, and a glint in her onyx eyes. The older female stroked the beaten girls face gently. Her fingers like a ghost floating above her bruised skin. _

"_I've told you before, The Ides of March care not gender."_

_---_

_**CRASH**_

The sound awoke both of the sleeping teens out of there dreams, Warren falling out of his awkward position on the chair and on to the floor. Misha's eyes snapped open as her head shot up, her crystal eyes onyx for the moment until she blinked and they returned back to their normal state. No one seemed to notice, and if they did they didn't say anything.

Principal Powers had walked down the halls, and ran a few errands. She stopped by the break room to grab some coffee, and grabbed some milk for the two teens currently in her jurisdiction. She walked into the White room only to find said teens…napping?

Of all the horrible, terrible, mischievous things they could've been doing…they chose to…nap?

With a shake of her brunette head she grabbed the first provided text book she saw and let it drop to the floor of the dead silent room. And with her hands on her hips and a 'cluck' of her tongue she told the pair they had thirty minutes for lunch.


	5. Detentions? part two?

Authors note:

For this chapter, you should listen to the song "With a little help from my friends" by Jim Sturgess

You'll know the part when you get to it.

It just helps visualize.

-----------------------------------------------------

_**Absurdity: **__A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_.

Greg sat on the couch, flipping through the channels looking for something entertaining to watch. So far his search wasn't going as well as he would've hoped, daytime TV shows and Saturday morning cartoons weren't doing it for him.

He ran a hand threw his unruly red locks and sighed. He looked at the clock on the mantel, "10:30".

He was so bored, Saturday and Sunday were his only days off from work, and he usually spent them with Misha. She was his baby sister and he enjoyed every minute of it. She proved that she was tough enough to "hang with the boys" at a young age. They had no other siblings; it was just the two of them always together. She was seventeen and he was twenty-two, only four years parted them, yet she acted so much older than her years. She had her fair share of boyfriends; well that he knew about anyway, most of them were his friends. He would just laugh at his friends when they would nervously stutter their way into asking him if "he mined if they went out with his little sister, because she really doesn't look or act fourteen..."

He truly did enjoy his sisters company; she knew when to make jokes and when to have serious conversations about everything Life; that was their major topic of choice. How it was a bitch, how it could be kind at times only to bite you back in the ass. She really was too old for her seventeen year old body.

'Well actually, she doesn't really look seventeen...'

She looked like she could be his girlfriend, not his little sister. They did look a lot alike though, they had the same shape eyes, the same nose, and hair. So he guessed she really did look too much like him for people to think she was his girlfriend. But it still didn't help that she had the mind, mentality, and body of a twenty-something year old either.

He looked over at the pictures that hung on the walls of their three bedroom apartment. They ranged from their infant years, to pre-teens, to teenage adulthood. Misha looked so vibrant in some of them, so happy. He hadn't seen her that happy since she was six or seven. That was her prime, her best years. When he was home all the time and they played their silly games with and without powers. Before the tragic affair that was their parents last moments on this earth. Back when that stupid bitch wasn't in his sister's mind. He had found out, only years later, that that Dark Alessa had actually been there for a very, very long time.

When Misha was four years old, she had fallen very ill. The severity of his sister's case wasn't present until later, but it had all started out with a simple suggestion from Greg to go to the playground. It seemed simple enough; they went and had a wonderful time that was until Misha was left unattended. The playground that they would play at was abandoned; it used to belong to the old church that it was connected too. In the late nineteen hundreds the church had been turned into a catholic school for the troubled boys and girls of the community. The Evans family was unaware of this, and the crucial fact that three murders plagued the past of this worn down establishment. One of the murders, and the sickest and violent, belonging to the girl named Alessa Gillespie that now resided in his sister's mind. She was young, alone, unattended, and with her powers still growing, susceptible to anything dark and eerie wanting in.

He remembered his mother panicking, they couldn't find Misha. She had wondered off into the worn down church. The windows were smashed, the ground was dust filled, there were cob webs all over and a dark looming presence that hung in the air...

When Misha was very young, a very close friend of the Evans family told their mother that she had thought Misha might be a Crystal Child. Crystal Children were usually pre-psychics, known for their big crystal eyes, and penetrating stares. They didn't talk much, but they didn't have to, everything they wanted could be seen in their eyes. They knew what they wanted, when they wanted it, and how they wanted it. And Misha was just that, they would find out later that it was just part of her powers, she was like her parents and brother after all, a Hero.

Yet even from a young age Misha longed to be the Anti-hero. The hero with a tragic flaw, which would eventually lead to her down fall, her demise. She would write stories, upon stories, about how a girl with big eyes was loved by all, but held a dear secret close...

They always started that way, or something similar to that. Misha hated the "Norm"; whatever that was suppose to define anyway. She never wanted to be like other kids, doing other "normal" kid things. Unfortunately she would grow to despise her decision, and realize that she was never one of the Norm anyway, that she was never blessed with that gift. Instead she was cursed with a plague of darkness inside her mind, and powers that were beyond her control. And now she longed to rid herself of this retched lifestyle. What she used to dream of turned into a nightmare with a blink of a crystal eye.

The ring from his cell phone broke his intense thoughts of his sister, he didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?"

"Yes, is this the residence of a Mr. Gregory Evans?"

Greg paused for a moment, trying to register whom he was speaking to.

"Yes, this is he. May I ask whose calling?"

There was a pregnant pause of silence for a moment before the women started up again.

"Mr. Evans, this is Cynthia Cobbeswell from the SVU lab at The U.M.A."

He knew this voice; he could place it perfectly with a head of bouncing blond curls and a red-lipped smile. After the tragedy, Misha was taken away to The United Medical Association Hospital of America, to a special unit called The Special Victims unit. The U.M.A. as they liked to call it was a hospital for heroes and villains alike. They did all different types of tests on her, trying to figure out what was causing her rage filled panic attacks. He hadn't heard from them, since they released Misha back on to the world. And now they were calling again...

"Mr. Evans...we have new information regarding your sister, Misha Evans..."

His face paled, nothing good could come out of this...

--------------------------------------

The munching of sandwiches and slurps of milk out of milk cartons was what could be heard in the 'White room'. The sighs of exaggerated boredom could also be heard.

Warren sat with his feet propped up on the desk in front of him, leaning back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on his faded jeans. He was getting tired of the silence, he was never one for 'chit-chat' and meaningless conversation, but he found in this case solitude was not working for him.  
So he started off by humming the song that was currently stuck in his head, going along with the beat he was tapping on his jeans. He noticed the tiny turn of the head from the girl sitting to the left of him. And soon he found himself singing.

"_What would you do if I sang outta tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?  
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song And I'll try not to sing outta key  
O, I get by with a little help from my friends.  
He gets high with a little help from his friends.  
O, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.  
What do I do when my love is away..."_

She was fully turned toward him now, he was singing?  
Why? Was the only question. They had sat in unbearably awkward silence for almost half their sentence. She wasn't sure why, its not like they had actually done anything...but she supposed the fact that they wanted to, and the fact that the looming lust still plagued over their weary minds, made it that way. Yet what better way to make tense silence less awkward?  
She knew the song in question he was singing, her brother used to have an obsession with the band, then when the movie came out he nearly died. But that was indeed not the kind of music she would've pictured the Lone-Stoner over there to o in, much less enjoy.

'Well...' she guessed 'everyone has their own little quirks and surprises.' 

She smirked at him,  
"Does it worry you to be alone?"  
Now this was indeed surprising. The little bit liked the Beatles, and knew the song he was singing, was interesting.  
"How do I feel by the end of the day?"  
She smiled,  
"Are you sad because you're on your own?"

Both:  
_"I get by with a little help from my friends  
Yea, I get high with a little help from my friends  
O, I'm gonna try withal little help from my friends_

she never took her eyes off him,  
_"Do you need anybody?"_

His eyes bore into hers,  
_"I need somebody to love"_

There was a slight inflextion in her voice,  
_"Could it be anybody?"_

His grew deeper,  
_"I want somebody to love"_

_Both:_  
_"Would you believe in a love at first sight"_

She rolls her crystal eyes,  
_"Yeah I'm certain that it happens all the time"_

_Both:  
"What do you see when you turn out the lights?"_

He licked his lips slowly,  
_"I can't tell ya but I know its mine"_

_Both:  
"O, I get by with a little help from my friends  
Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends  
O, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends"_

She faked innocence,  
_"Do you need anybody?"_

He growled,  
_"I need someone to love"_

_Both:  
"Could it be anybody  
Oooh, Oooh!  
By with a little help from my friends  
High with a little help from my friends  
Try with a little help from my friends  
By with a little help from my friends"_

He whispered,  
_"I get by with a little help from my friends  
with a little help from my..."  
_  
_Both:  
"Friends..."_

---------------------------------------

The rest of detention served to be lighter. It wasn't as tense or awkward, and although the conversation stayed as far away as possible from the subject of yesterday afternoon, it proved to be almost comfortable between the two angst-ridden teens. Neither of them wrote the essays they were assigned at the beginning. Instead writing the lyrics to songs they thought were meaningful. They knew the consequences, and the anger that there principal would feel at them deliberately disobeying her. Yet they found it didn't bother them, so she was a little angrier at them, ohh boo-hoo. It's not like Warren was going to lose sleep over it. 

They walked out of the school together at exactly 1:01; he awkwardly said goodbye to her on the steps of Sky High, and with a wave of his hand over his retreating shoulder was off toward his El Camino. 

Misha shook her head, the beginnings of a smile coming on as her brother pulled up in front of the school steps.

Gregory wasted no time, "Misha, we need to talk."

----------------------------------

So, there it is.  
Thanks for the reviews; they really do make me happy.  
A little confusing about Misha's past, I know. But it will clear up soon.  
I know where the plot for this is going for the most part, but suggestions are always welcome.  
Longer chapters will be on the way, don't fret.  
And yesh, I was channeling John Bender, from The Breakfast Club, in this chapter as Warren. That's just who he reminds me of.  
The song that they are singing in detention is "With a little help from my friends" by The Beatles, but redone in Across the Universe by Jim Strugess.

So, keep up with the reviewing, it makes me happy. And any questions you have, just ask and they will be answered.


	6. Storytime?

So here we are. The long awaited Chapter six.

_**--**_

_**Absurdity: **A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_.

--

Gregory was sure they're neighbors were going to call the police with all the commotion his sister was making

Gregory was sure they're neighbors were going to call the police with all the commotion his sister was making. The apartment looked nothing like it had earlier this morning. The picture frames were on the ground, the glass cracked. Furniture lay strewn across the floor, along with clothing and other things. The kitchen cabinets were empty; the contents that used to lie within them were now on the floor.

She had been against all comprehension at the time. Anger had consumed her, swallowed her whole. Nothing he could've said would've made a difference calmed her down. So he waited patiently, letting her tire herself out, before he would try and talk to her again.

'I should've waited.' he thought to himself.

But good would that've done? She honestly needed to know, and waiting would only have prolonged the storm. She had to know, as soon as possible.

--

Gregory Evans hung up the phone. This was definitely not good. His sister, his baby sister, was...dying. He felt his heart constrict at the thought. He knew that Misha had trouble controlling her emotions, while that Alessa fucking Gillespi was in her mind.

But Misha had described to him once, what Alessa looked like, where she kept her. Misha said she kept her in a dark room, bound to a chair, arms strapped tight. Legs bound too. Alessa didn't speak, she didn't have too, it was all in her eyes. Her beautifully dark face held no emotion. She sat there, somber yet full of rage.

Which is why this didn't make any sense to him. If Alessa Gillespi was locked up, then how was she destroying his sister?

--

Misha sat against the kitchen wall, facing the sink. The stove was to her left and a small table to her right. She couldn't breathe, her lungs were on fire, her body ached all over. But nothing hurt worse than her head. It pounded and throbbed, and Alessa was going wild with rage in her mind. She had to find a way to calm Alessa down before she did something rash and would regret.

'Like back home...' She threw her head back into the wall, her breathing was just short of hyperventilating, her eyes closed. Alessa was currently struggling to break free of her confines screaming like a banshee. She couldn't blink back the tears any longer. They fell freely down her porcelain cheeks.

Gregory walked over to his only sister, and sat down beside her. Her knees were tucked under her chin and eyes still snapped shut. He touched her arm soothingly, and then wrapped his arm around her. Misha leaned into the comfort her brother was offering. He wasn't a very emotional person, he kept his emotions to himself and wasn't very "touchy feely", so she always accepted his offered embraces. She laid her head against his shoulder, eyes still closed. Her breathing calmed a little, her body ached a little less, but her brother, no matter how much she loved him, he would never really be able to help her.

It was too overwhelming in here; she needed to leave, to cool off. She was ridiculously hot, and her head was throbbing. She had known it was coming, that eventually Alessa would be her downfall. Misha knew that Alessa was getting stronger; she just didn't think that she was going to...die...so soon. Misha removed herself from the embrace, stood up on wobbly legs with support from the stove.

"I'm going out for a walk." she said blatantly.

Gregory looked up at her from his position on the floor; tear stains still adorned her beautiful face. Her gaze wasn't on him, or on anything in particular, her vision was clouded with those crystal tears. How could he refuse her? In fact he had no idea what to say, what do you say? So he just nodded and watched as she walked through the chaos that was their apartment out the door.  
He sighed and wiped a hand over his tired face, then stood up.

"I suppose I should start cleaning..."

--

Misha had no idea where she was headed. She was in a fog, she couldn't see, couldn't feel, she was numb. The cool air felt good against her burning skin. She walked into town, blocks and blocks she walked, until she saw a neon sign, it was the only one on at this time of night.

--

After detention Warren had gone home then to work. Which just happened to be conviently located right down the stairs. His mother owned the Paper Lantern, and she was cutting him no slack since the call from Principal Powers. The day had been long, and slow, and he couldn't get this stupid girl out of his mind. Her long hair, big eyes, thin lips, long legs, quick wit, smart mouth. And now he was going to have to wait almost four days to see her again. The little bit was getting threw his walls, his defenses, and she wasn't even trying! He was becoming infatuated with her, it scared him.

And there were so many things that he didn't know, so many things her wanted to know. Warren knew though, that with her, finding them out would be half the fun. The day was ending; Warren was cleaning up the tables, getting ready to turn off the lights and head upstairs. His mother had already retired for the night; she was most likely asleep getting the hours she needed to awake early the next morning.

He heard the bell chime behind him that signified the presence of another person.

"Sorry, but were closed."

Warren heard nothing. Thinking the punk didn't hear him, he gave an impatient sigh and turned around. His eyes widened in surprise, here standing before him was Misha Evans. The girl who single handedly wormed his way into his mind and refused to leave.

Warren looked her over, her face was flushed, her tear stains had dried, her eyes were red and her knuckles bloody. She looked about ready to collapse.

"Misha?"

Warren was thoroughly confused. She sat down in the nearest chair, eyes still boring into his, she remained silent. Warren walked over to where she sat and dropped softly to his knees in front of her. Warren gently grabbed on of her hands and took it in his own.

"What happened?" His voice had sternness to it, but it was gentle. Something that surprised even himself.

Warren Peace, certified badass, rebel without a cause, loner, outcast, problem child with a conspiracy against the government and hates society. Yes, those were things that one could associate with Warren Peace, and Gentle was not one of them.

As soon as those words left his lips, he regretted them. Misha started to cry, a single tear made its way down her high cheek bone. Warren found himself whipping it away with his thumb. They were both being ridiculously out of character.

"Come on." He stood up and she did as he said.

Warren turned out the lights and locked the door, and led her into the back where there was a staircase that lead to the apartments above the restaurant. They walked up the stairs through a hall way and made a left to another flight of stairs, to a hallway and then to a room, that Misha assumed was Warrens.

They walked inside and Warren flipped on the light. If Misha hadn't been so distraught, she might've laughed. His room was exactly how she pictured it would be. Warren's room had posters covering the walls and ceiling. A collage of magazine clippings on one whole wall, a dresser, a desk in the corner, a TV facing a queen sized bed, red carpet covered the ground. Warren led her in and closed his door and locked it. She sat down on his bed, staring out the window opposite of her.

Warren went over to the dresser and lit the insecense and a candle. He did the same around the room. Misha closed her eyes as Warren turned off the light. The smell of the insence and the glow of the candles instantly calmed her frantic mind. It was soothing, and then she could feel the bed dip next to her.

Warren sat down next to her, hoping that his would settle her down. He started humming softly until he saw her visibly relax. Her shoulders drooped and her heavily lidded eyes opened to look at him. Their was just something about his presence that was so...calming.

She felt painfully tired all of the sudden.

Yet Misha was afraid that if she slept, she would dream. No, she didn't have dreams. Only nightmares. But his bed was just so inviting, and he was so warm. The next thing she knew, his arm was draped over her waist and they were covered by a thick blanket, and with Warren spooning her she fell into a peaceful slumber.

--

Everything was tinged with white as she looked around. She was in...a field? The grass was a lush green; the sky a light blue, the clouds looked whiter than her summer dress.

Misha looked down at herself; she adorned a white dress that twirled above her knees. The straps were thick and the neckline modest. Her long hair was loose in curls, pinned back in the front to expose her porcelain face. Her left hand sported a diamond ring, beautiful it was.

Misha looked up to find a little girl with crimson hair so dark it almost gleamed black. Her alabaster skin matching her little white dress. But it was the little girl's eyes that struck her the most. One of the little girls eyes was green, a startling green, and the other was beautiful amber. If the little girl's appearance surprised her, then she could've died of shock at what came out of her mouth.

"Mommy!"

The word was simple, and one she knew. But 'mommy' was not a word one associated with Misha. She was cold, cruel, careless, not really adjectives describing a mother. Misha found herself kneeling on the soft grass, the girls little arms encircled around her neck.

"I miss you Mommy." The little girl whispered into Misha's ear. Misha looked over the tiny girl's shoulders to see a man making his way across the lawn of green. She found herself smiling.

The man was tall, with lanky black hair, and a faint red streak in it. He looked so odd wearing all black in such a light place. But the little girl spun around at the sounds of footsteps approaching.

"Daddy!"

The girl fled from Misha's arms into the arms of the man before her. The man had the same color eyes as the girl's one. Warm Amber. Misha stood up as words escaped the mans mouth. They didn't match the timing of his lips.

She was waking up.

The last thing she heard before the blinding light descended on her was, "Don't worry darling, everything will work out soon."

--

Misha squinted her eyes shut tighter attempting to block out the annoying sun coming through the cracks in the blinds. Not yet wanting to leave the warm comfort of the bed she snuggled in closer to the chest of...Warren?!

Mishas eyes flew open and was met with he pale flesh of Warrens chest. Her mind reeled trying to remember what happened the night before. It all stumbled through her mind, the detention, the news, the wrecking of their apartment, the walk, and Warren. Misha looked up at his sleeping face; even in his sleep he looked slightly troubled. She lifted a hand to smooth the fringe out of his eyes. That's when she first noticed her hands. Where her knuckles had been bloody and bruised were now white bandages.

She smiled a little, Warren had fixed her up, let her sleep in his bed, kept the monsters away...

Her eyes widened. She didn't have a nightmare. The last time she actually dreamt, she was six years old. She couldn't believe it, she just couldn't believe it.

She snuggled her face into the crook of his neck, her lips teasing the tender flesh with her breath. He gave a small moan and gripped her tighter. Warren's eyes fluttered open and looked around the room a couple of times before looking down at her. His eyes were still heavily lidded with sleep; a small smile graced his handsome face.

"Good morning." it was almost a whisper.

She looked away from him.

Warren rolled over on his back and stretched, sat up on the side of his bed and popped his back. She was watching him the entire time, the way his muscles moved under his soft skin. Warren stood up and stalked over to his dresser, she assumed he was going to put some clothes on considering he was only clad in plaid blue boxers. But she assumed wrong, he instead picked up a carton of cigarettes and lit one. Misha sat up in the bed, the blankets still around her, her knees tucked under her chin. Warren turned around, cigarette in hand, leaning back against the dresser.

"Feel any better?"

Misha shrugged her thin shoulders. Warren took another drag of the cigarette and extended his arm out to her. Misha held her arm out and Warren gave her the cigarette. Misha took a long drag and looked up to find him staring at her, another cigarette graced his lips. He was indeed well endowed. He was lean, and tall with defined features. The only thought that past through her mind, delicious. His hair was askew and sticking up in odd places. Misha climbed off the soft bed and walked over toward where Warren was ad ran her hands through his hair.

"You didn't have to help me ya know." she muttered.

"You came to me for help, why wouldn't I help you?" he sounded so sincere, she wanted to believe him so bad.

Warren looked down at her, somehow last night she had removed her jeans and was now standing before him in her pretty little red underwear. Her black tee-shirt came to about her navel and he had the most glorious view of her midriff. God he loved those long legs...but there was something in her eyes that made those thoughts cease.

She looked so...troubled, so broken. For once in his life Warren came to the overwhelming realization that he wanted to fix someone else, and not worry about fixing him. It startled his already frazzled mind.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" he asked her slowly.

Her crystal eyes bore into his searching for something, anything. She sighed and looked down at the cigarette, still burning.

"Alright" she started hesitantly. "But there's a few things you need to understand about me first. Things you may to like, but things you'll need to know."

All he could do was nod.

"I expect that you keep this to yourself. Because I swear to God if you utter a word of this to anyone, you'll be speaking sing language when I'm done with you."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, not looking at him. Warren just stood and listened. She was gazing past him, her stare a million miles away, remembering.

"I was born in the south, the deep south. Where it never rained and it was always one hundred degrees. The wind never blew and when it did it only made things worse, it blew the dust in your eyes. Women were perfect there, they always wore dresses, and it was too hot for anything else. They usually had flowers on them, with weird colors and floral prints. Old men started at you, it didn't matter how old you were."

She sighed.

"I hate pie. I don't like lemonade."

Warren gave a little smirk, but it slid off his face as she continued.

"We weren't poor, but we weren't wealthy either. My father was a lawyer and my mother was a teacher. They both went to a school like Sky High that they had in my town.

Things were alright in my life for a while, peaceful even. I was a normal happy girl, well as normal as you could get when your parents are heroes in a town where the population is a thousand. I guess until that day anyway. I was seven years old, my family had an "outing" as my parents liked to call them. It was code for useless family bonding, my parent's favorite way of making up for lost time that they spent working.

They weren't the greatest of parents really. They cared much more for Gregory and I when we little…then things started getting bad…and they stopped caring so much, stopped being around. I didn't blame them though; I didn't blame anyone, how stupid of me.

We went to an old playground attached to the equally as old catholic school that had been around for as long as many could recall. I don't really remember what happened; I just remember wandering...it's like a movie that plays over and over in my head. Then I feel this...presence...I felt cold and dark. Like all the happiness had been sucked out of me. Then darkness."

Her faded southern accent started to return as her story waged on.

"I woke a week and a half later in the intensive care unit with IVs and needles sticking out of my arms, my mother crying hysterically, my father arguing with a stressed looking doctor and my older brother slumped in the corner of the room, guilt stricken and not looking at me.

I never felt like myself ever again. I felt dark and angry...things that a seven year old shouldn't be feeling. The doctors couldn't diagnose the problem; they were supposed to be the best in the country...specialist for the occasion. The results of every one of their tests were false; they said it appeared to be nothing more than sleeping. And if they hadn't known any better, they would've thought I was.

For weeks I was fine, I just felt angry all the time. My smile never reached my eyes, I soon started acting out strangely, my head always hurt, and I never dreamed. What most people thought was me coming into my powers, was really the starting rise of Alessa."

Warren looked at her strangely. Alessa? What?

"Alessa Gillespi is the product of what happens when a child is killed under false pretenses. She was murdered a very, very long time ago for being a "witch"; the town didn't understand what we understand today. They saw her as a threat. So many people tortured her to a gruesome death. Alessa was an innocent beautiful girl once, but years of hate made her dark. She is darkness, she is a creature has no boundaries, that knows no boundaries.

She started controlling my mind, my thoughts. She would send me images of horrible terrible things at the most obscure moments. I could hear her talking laughing in my head. I don't dream, I only have nightmares ever since she's been invading my body.

Now the people of my little southern town were church going people, very superstitious as it was, and they weren't too fond of me anyway. I was a loud boisterous child that didn't know when to shut up. That was sin #1. We never went to church, that was sin #2. But now I was actually giving them a reason to talk in hushed tones behind our backs. I remember that none of the parents wanting their children to hang around me, I was a "bad influence" apparently. So just like their bias parents, the children started hating me too. They would call me a witch and torment me in school. How ironic that I actually became one.

I was nine years old the first time their talk turned into action. By that time two years had past, and I was struggling to just be the sliver of myself I still hung on too. I was pale, sickly looking, I would get headaches and blink a lot seeing things in color then black and white."

Misha wiped a hand over her tired eyes. Warren was staring at her intensely, waiting for her to begin speaking again; totally entranced by the story that was her life.

"I was walking home from school, Gregory at my side, when we heard the sounds of bikes on the dirt trail behind us. They were a bunch of boys from school, boys that tormented me. Their leader Bobby Jameson was laughing as he threw stones at us. Usually the boys from school wouldn't bother me with my brother around; he was nearly four years older than us and could easily beat them up. But they were feeling particularly adventurous that day I suppose. I kept walking, Greg didn't. He'd had enough of these pompous idiots. They all started yelling and it was then I turned around to face them, only to be on the receiving end of a rock the size of your fist. It hit me right in the eye…I couldn't see for a week.

They all started laughing…all of them…Bobby with his arms folded over his chest. I started to shake and wail, and cry out. It was then that everything started becoming silent. See, the thing with Alessa is she can only come out when I lose control…when some traumatic event happens…when my guards down. That's why I always have to be extremely careful all the time. When that stupid boy threw that rock, I knew for the first time that someone actually hated me. Then I started to feel Alessa's emotions along with mine, they mixed together like poison and I went blind with rage. I was watching her and I couldn't do anything about it.

I got up off the ground, my dress dirty, my face bruised and my eyes dark. That was the first time Alessa ever took over, and it wouldn't be the last.

I could feel a tugging at the corner of my thin lips. Their scared faces only made it more worthwhile, and soon all the rocks around were being thrown at the boys with bikes. Some of them took off; others fell to the ground with cries of agony. Bobby fell down with a thud, and didn't get back up. He lay motionless on the dirt, dark crimson flooding freely from his blonde head.

Soon that mechanical laugh was coming from my mouth, and a smile as wide as the horizon. I felt pain in the back of my head; my brother had knocked me out and brought me home before anything worse happened. Little did he know, he had saved everyone else there by doing that. When I woke up I was normal…well as normal as I had recently been. I was confused but I sucked it up, and I was never nice to anyone ever again.

It wasn't that I hated the world, it was just the world hated me. Bobby was the first person I ever killed, and I don't regret it one bit. His stupid smirking laughing face. Well I'll tell you what, he ain't laughin' no more."

Warren could see her getting angry at the memory, but then it faded into something else…sadness…

"When I was thirteen my parents met with a man named Professor John Rivers. He was a psychiatrist for the psychic, and he had been yearning to meet with me for some time. He did many tests and told me that my power was great. That he hadn't seen power like mine since a girl named Laurie Davis, many, many years ago. He told me he was going to try and make Alessa listen to me. She didn't like that, at all.

So one night, she got the best of me…and…I walked into my parent's room…"

She could feel her chest tighten, and her vision cloud with unshed tears.

"I remember watching it all, like it was some x-rated horror movie and I couldn't find the remote. When Alessa was done, she sat in my parent's blood. It filled the room, on the walls, on the bed, on the floor; buckets. She…she…started singing.

"Now I lay me down to sleep" She closed my mother's eyes.

"I praise the lord my soul to keep" she drew a heart on her chest in blood.

"If I should die before I wake" Alessa smiled and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"I pray the lord my soul to take" and then…we blacked out.

When I woke up it was really me. I had all these things strapped to my head and chest. And the Professor talking in hushed tones to my brother somewhere behind me. He told me what she had done, because I couldn't keep control over her, I let my anger get the best of me. So Gregory and I ran, and ran, and ran. And ended up here."

Misha was sobbing by now; she choked on her cries as salty tears ran down her face. Warren wrapped her in his arms, only to be pushed away.

"Do you know how many people I killed?! Do you?!"

He couldn't do anything but shake his head dumbly.

"Thirty-four, and twelve of them were children."

Warren sat, stunned into silence. He couldn't think clearly, this was insane! She was insane! She could kill him…but that wasn't what bothered him in the least. No, what bothered him was the fact that she had been put through it all and there was nothing he could do about it. No one he could beat up or yell at. He stood up from his spot in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her form, his face mere inches from hers.

"I'm sorry, but your horror story won't stop me from annoying you sweets. Its gonna take a lot more than that to keep me away."

He smirked at her.

She licked her thin lips.

Warren inched closer to her, their lips almost meeting, when she put her hand on Warren's chest.

"Warren, wait." She turned her head so his lips brushed against her cheek.

"What?"

Misha still wasn't looking at him.

"I…I, don't know what she'll do…"

Warren backed up in understanding. She was referring to the witch inside her, Alessa her name was. His current blockade from the enigma that was the beautiful Misha Evans.

Oh he will get past her, he will.


	7. Family Ties?

**_A/N: _**Sooooo sorry it has taken me so long to update. This is just a filler chapter unfortunately the jucier stuff comes soon.

**_--_**

**_Absurdity: _**

_A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_

--

The warm water released the tension in her aching muscles. She had been in there for a long time, her fingers were past pruny, her hair throughly drenched. And yet, she didnt mind, she just sat on the shower floor, the hot water beating against her pink skin.

Warren didnt dare disturb her. After her revelation they talked for another while, she told him about the call Gregory revcived. Then she asked him to take a shower, and here they were two hours later. Warren was downstairs helping his mother cook when Misha finally stood up and turned off the water.

Misha stepped out of the shower and grabbed the clean towel on the rack. She wiped off the fog on the mirror and stared at her reflection. Dripping red hair stuck to pallid freckled cheeks. Dark circles under big emerald eyes, framed by thick lashes. Pale lips and high cheek bones accentuated her face. One the outside she really didn't look that frightening at all. Just sick, sick and tired. Her chest tightened with knowing and her eyes shown with sorrow.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A familiar yet comforting smell drifted up toward her. It was thick and masculine and wrapped around her like a blanket. It was a mixture of cigarettes and mint. Cool Cologne and sandalwood...

It was Warren.

A small smile was etched on her face as she started to dry off and dress.

Warren was just finishing up when he heared the soft padding of foot steps coming down the stairs. He wiped his hands off on the towel and went to meet her. As he rounded the corner he felt a solid force ram into him. His arms snaked around her thin waist and caught her from falling. Misha smiled up a him, as he smirked down at her.

"Are you hungry?"

She looked from his amber eyes to his full lips. Never had food sounded so...sexy.

"Yeah, I suppose I could eat... something."

He released her and lead her into the kitchen, where all the chatter in another language was bound to give her a headache.

Misha was leaning against the metal counter as Warren was prepairing plates for them. It was then when his mother walked out of the giant freezer with a box of rice in her hands. She was beautiful. Her ebony hair was long and tied in a low ponytail that trailed to her shoulder blades. Her figure was tall, willowy. Her chest was small and her thin waist held no curves, but she was still alluring. Her eyes were amber, warm amber.

'So that's were he gets them from.' thought Misha.

"Warren, darling, after you eat can you do me a -- oh, I'm sorry I didn't see you there." Her smile was wide and warm and made Misha feel like smiling too. "Warren, honey, whose your guest?"

"Uh, Mom, this is Misha. You know, the girl I mentioned earlier..."

His mother's smile faltered only for a moment, as though she were going to laugh.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you Misha, I'm Nateli."

Nateli put down the box and extended her hand toward the redhead. Misha took it with faultering eyes, afraid to lose this wonderful woman's interest.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too." She smiled her best without it looking cheesy. It still felt weird to smile. She didn't do it often, and it seemed to hurt from years of dissuse.

Nateli's arms folded over the chest of her gray turtleneck, the smug smile still present on her lovely face. "So tell me, am I finally meeting the infamous Misha that has helped my son in breaking various school rules?"

Misha looked into the older woman's eyes. "Unfortunately, yes."

Nateli smiled. "Well its wonderful to meet the girl that entices my son so."

Warren forced out a fake laugh. "Ha ha...shes kidding."

Misha held in laughter looked at him, but Warren wouldn't look into her eyes and instead stared at his mother, trying not to sneer.

Nateli looked her son in the eyes, knowing what only a mother could sense. She looked Misha up and down, and liked what she saw. The girl was different, she'd give her that much. Her red hair was long, her skin pale, her waist thin, and her eyes big. Nateli was surprised by the girls appearance and posture. The girls that her Warren usually hung around with were nothing like this, they were stick thin with dark hair and dark eyes. Nateli mentally sighed at the thought of Katelyn Good. She couldn't believe her son ever went out with her, she was Barbie and her Warren was far from Ken. Speaking of Katelyn...

"Oh, Katelyn came by earlier this morning for you Warren. Something about a box for you..."

Warren visibly slumped and ran a hand through his long locks. "Did she leave it?" His mother shrugged.

"Yeah, like whats that girls deal?" The question was directed at Warren, but it was Nateli who answered.

"Katelyn is Warren's ex-girlfriend. She's a real bitch if you ask me."

"Mom!"

Misha couldn't contain it any longer, she busted out laughing. The melodic sound filled their ears, and soon they were all laughing at the stupidity of Warren's blond ex-girlfriend. Story after story about her horrible attitude were being told as they sat and ate the wonderful food, and Misha couldn't remember a time were she felt as comfortable in front of people as she was in front of Warren and Nateli.

--

"Are you sure you hsve to get going so soon?" Nateli's voice sounded almost pleading.

Misha looked down at her boots, she had spent all day at the restaurant in the company of these two people. Nateli Peace was like the sister she never had, usually adults treated her like a criminal or a mental patient. But Nateli held the philosophy that you shouldn't give respect if you haven't earned it, and that had given her a new light in Misha's eyes. She hadnt thought that she could possibly like this women anymore, but there she was to prove her wrong. They had spent part of their evening chatting about powers, and about Misha's current disposition. Nateli had offered to try some herbal remedies, and some type of yoga that Misha had never heared of.

She smiled at the older women. "I would love to stay, but I should get back before Gregory has a melt down."

Nateli smiled brightly and embraced Misha in a motherly hug. Misha stiffened at first, unused to the feeling of warmth that spread through her body. It was a different type of warmth than that of which Warren gave her, but she reluctantly gave in to the embrace and put her arms around the older women.

Warren watched in silence at the internal struggle Misha was going through as his mother hugged her. Her face was almost comical before she gave into the embrace and drew her arms around his mother's thin frame. It was slightly startling to Warren that his mother took to Misha so quickly. Never before had she liked any of the girls he had dated or hung around with. He knew for a fact that his mother in no way shape or form held any compassion for Katelyn. She simply couldn't stand her. It used to hurt Warren, slightly, because he thought highly of his mothers approval, in somethings like girls. She was all he had, and he knew that growing up without a father sucked, especially since his father was a villain and was always talked down upon. But sometimes he couldn't help but feel like he was going down that same path...

Misha was released from his mothers grasp and she was moving toward him. Her hips swaying, her eyes half lidded, her thin lips set to a smirk. She silently wrapped her arms around his torso and layed her head against his chest for a moment. He heared her sigh in contentment, and the heat from her lithe body was gone all too soon it seemed.

"Bye Warren." She whispered, rather seductively, him his ear before tenatively dropping a kiss on his cheekbone. She turned on last time and waved a 'Good Bye' to his mother before leaving the resturant. There was silence for a few moments after Misha left, before his mother started gathering the dirty dishes.

"I like her." she stated simply walking toward the kitchen. "You better bring her back soon." she threw over her shoulder before walking through the door.

Warren sighed as he wiped a hand over his tired eyes. He finished cleaning up for his mother, then went upstairs to his room. Where he found it no longer smelled just like incense and smoke, but this light, breezy almost smell. It smelled of fresh spring water and the beach after it rains. Warren smiled as he removed his shirt and dove into the soft confides of his bed, that smell lulling him into a peaceful slumber.

--


	8. Serious Situations?

A/N: ohmygod, I know, it's been like two years since I updated this story. two freakin' years! and to all of you who were reading this story, and reviewed, and favorited and alerted and whatever else, I just want to apologise. I'm so very sorry that you all had to wait this long. but, for a while I just lost touch with this story, I wasn't inspired by it. I've grown so much as a writer and to look back at the early chapters of this story makes me cringe, but the fact of the matter is I shouldn't have gone on hiatus without letting all of you know.

Here's the next chapter of this story, disregarding my obvious abandonment of this, I do actually have a plot and an ending, and I know where this is going. It was just getting hard to get to that point, and it still is. But, in a random fit of inspiration at 2AM I decided that enough was enough and that I was going to update.

So, sorry for the long author's note, but I hopw you all enjoy this chapter, hopefully another one will be up much, much, much sooner than this last one. please let me know what you think and that you are all still alive and still harbour some faith in me, if you don't I totally understand! And as corny as it sounds, reviews for this story really kept it going, the odd review for it would get my mind thinking about it again. So please, review, tell me what you like, what you don't, what you want more of, and what you think these characters look like! I have pictures on my profile, but I want to know what you all think! Let me know!

Love you all, seriously, I do.

-Ellie!

_**

* * *

**_

Absurdity:

_A statement or belief manifestly inconsistent with one's own opinion_

She walked up the steps to the small apartment she shared with her brother, the only person she had left, she tried not to think on it too much but, it was true, he really was the only one left. She felt bad about leaving him like she had, but she knew he understood, he had to. She took the key out of her boot and unlocked the door, walking in she found it dark. She assumed Gregory had went to bed, so she walked into the kitchen and turned on the light. She poured herself a glass of water, taking the off-orange bottle down from the shelf above the sink, and swallowed the prescribed number of little white pills.

She shut off the light and walked down the hall, pulling off her boots as she went. She reached the first door on the left and opened it slowly, as to not make much noise. She saw the lump under the comforter, heard the slight snores coming from it and knew he was asleep. She wiggled out of her skinny jeans and slipped under the blankets, making herself as comfortable as she could.

He inhaled sharply at the movement on his bed, he cracked his eyes open and in the dark saw the deep green of his little sister's eyes. He let out a sigh and threw and arm over her back, pulling her closer. There was a period of silence before either of them spoke, Gregory almost thought she had fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice was so quite, he almost didn't hear here, it broke his heart to hear her sound like that, so sad, so much like the little girl she once was. "I know you are Mish, I understand, you know I do."

She let out a sigh, "I know you do Gregory, but you shouldn't have to, you shouldn't have to deal with all of this. You're twenty-three years old, you should be in college or out at parties getting trashed. You should have a girlfriend who you love and can't get out of your mind. Not stuck playing babysitter to a sick little sister who killed their parents and forces you to move from place to place because she has outbursts and usually kills someone!"

By that time the tears had spouted from her eyes, soaking her thick lashes and her breathing becoming ragged with sobs. She cried for him, and all the things he'd missed, the things he'd never be able to do and see. She cried for her parents, who never got to watch their children grow older, who never got to see what it would've been like to raise a super family. But mostly she cried for herself. She cried for the girl who she used to be, the woman she always wished to become, and the person she was forced to be now.

She let it out now, knowing that on the eve of her destruction there would be no tears, she would never let Alessa have the last laugh on her behalf. So she layed there while Gregory rubbed, what he hoped were, soothing circles on her back while she cried. And in Gregory's mind all he could do was think the same thing over and over;

_'Little girl, little girl why are you crying? _

_Inside your restless soul your heart is dying. _

_Little girl, little girl, You dirty liar. _

_You're just a junkie preaching to the choir.'_

* * *

She awoke with a start, sitting up in bed she looked around, she was still in Gregory's room, the sun was streaming in through the cracks of his blinds. It was a strange feeling, waking up after crying to sleep. She couldn't say she enjoyed it all to much, she could still feel the tear marks on her face, swollen eyes, and the stuffy-ness of her nose. She sighed, wiping a hand over her face, she felt the weight of her body and didn't like it.

She honestly hadn't cried like that in a long time, and it bothered her to think of all the crying she had done in that past three days. It sickend her.

She was Misha fucking Evans, she didn't do sadness.

With that mentality she was able to get herself up out of his bed and walk into the kitchen. She found a note from Gregory on the table next to a cup of now cold coffee, it read of how he was called into work early and that he loved her.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the coffee cup, dumping it in the sink. She poured herself a new cup and went to her room to take a shower and get changed for school.

She was late. She knew she was late, it didn't really phase her as she walked down the deserted hallways to her classroom. She walked up to the door and knocked once, she waited until someone came and opened it for her.

"Ah, Miss Evans, your late."

She walked into the room toward her seat in the back. "Thanks for stating the obvious, your blunt observations truly astound me."

The teacher blushed slightly at her ridicule, "Now Misha, there will be none of that."

"None of what sir?"

He sighed, "None of your nonsense. I'm not in the mood for it today, so please just sit and listen." She mock saluted him. "At-ease Captain, I shall try my hardest."

He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm, even if he didn't realized it was have hearted, it seemed that she didn't have the same spark she usually did, not that she expected them to notice. But Mr. Tryton kept on teaching nonetheless, Misha shook her head and propped her feet up on the table in front on her. The table felt empty without the brooding long haired teen beside her, of course she would probably never admit that to him though. She wasn't sure what was going on with Warren and herself, where they stood.

Were they friends?

She assumed on some level they had to be, she never talked about the past to anyone, ever. And yet she had all but broke down in front of him that night, she had bared her soul to him in a way she didn't think she could do to someone that wasn't her brother. Then she had chatted, _chatted_, about it and her abilities with his Mother. His Mother! Of all people, but even Nateli was wonderful, so caring...so loving...

This was all so strange to her, too new and awkward. She didn't have friends or loved ones, they all just died at her hands anyway, so she figured what was the point?

Maybe she should just stay away from him altogether, just stopped talking to him. Cut the ties now instead of later, make it all less painful when the time came. No, the more she thought about it, that wouldn't work, he was too stubborn. Besides, he had almost every class with her, he sat next to her, there was no physical way to avoid him.

She would have to do something to make him hate her, but she wasn't sure if she would be able to go through with it. The more she thought about him, the more she didn't want to be away from him. She was brought back to that dream, she thought about it constantly. What could it mean? That little girl, so beautiful, and Warren saying "I'll see you soon."... What the hell was that suppose to mean? She was getting a headache thinking about it.

The class had ended quickly, not that she even really knew what had transpired, and she stood up to walk out the door with the rest of them. She glanced up and saw the girl coming towards her, Misha rolled her eyes at the blond's smug smile.

"Hello Misha, having a good morning?"

"What do you want Princess."

The smile on her face slipped into a smirk and she raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Didn't Principal Powers tell you?" She adjusted the strap of her purse on her thin shoulder. "I'll be escorting you to your classes, making sure you go to all of them."

Her green eyes narrowed at Katelyn, yes, Principal Powers did in fact tell her, she just chose to conveniently forget that part. With an aggravated sigh she pushed past Katelyn and into the sea of students, feeling the blonde's presence behind her the whole time. "You shouldn't bother yourself with him you know." She turned her head slowly towards the girl walking beside her, her cold blue eyes staring straight ahead, but Misha knew the comment was directed at her. "Warren, I mean."

"We're barely friends, not that its any of your buisness."

She felt a cold hand on her shoulder, stopping her in the crowded hallway. "I mean it. He's not a good kid and I'm not saying you are, but he'll hurt you, just like he hurt me..." Katelyn turned her head away at the last part, genuine pain erupted in her icy blues. For a moment Misha felt almost pity for the beauty next to her, because she really didn't know what had gone down between Warren and the girl, maybe he really had hurt her. "I'm not telling you this to win you over, because frankly, I don't like you at all. I think your disgusting and tactless, but your also a girl. A strong girl, but then again so was I, and he manipulated me with complete ease."

Misha's brows furrowed in thought, pain and longing were etched into Katelyn's voice, sorrow in her eyes. Could this bitch actually be telling the truth, actually be warning her about a real threat? The bell rang and students rushed to their classes, Katelyn and Misha began to walk once again, although Misha's mind was far from school work. She now had something a little more, foreshadowing, to dwell upon.

* * *

Warren wiped down the tables of the restaurant, picking up dishes and putting them in the grey bin next to him. Surprisingly it had been a busy day, good for the business, bad for him. Sure his Mother was chill, she didn't mind Misha spending the night, didn't mind hanging out with her the next morning, but as soon as she left all hell broke loose. It was as if she instantly remembered why he wasn't currently in school and was still lounging around the apartment. After a good talking to, more like his Mother's verbal abuse, he was forced to scrub the burners, clean out the freezer, and sorted the spices, he washed all the dishes and even took orders because they were a waiter short today.

He finally sat down at one of the booths, pouring himself a cup of water, he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice the boy sitting across from him. "Warren...hello, earth to Warren." His head snapped up and found that he was facing Will.

"What's up man."

Will just shrugged a shoulder, he was giving him that typical, I just did something I wasn't suppose to, smile. There was a gleam in his blue eyes that had never been there previously, a mischeviously brave sheen, one that he was certain had to do with the naughty little boy smile.

He quirked a brow in his direction, questioning the younger boy's presence at his place of work, wondering what this whole 'I've-got-a-secret-that-you-have-to-guess' bit was about. "You gonna tell me why you look like you just did something naughty, or am I gonna have to sit here and wait?" He watched as Will's smile widened slightly, his eyes growing bigger as he bit his lip trying to hold whatever he was about to tell Warren in. He tried, fighting his urge to give in, it was working until he apparently couldn't hold it in any longer and untill it just bursted out from his mouth.

"I made love to Layla!"

Warren's brows shot up, well...that hadn't been what he was expecting. "You, what?"

Will's smile couldn't have gotten any bigger at the moment, he looked like the cat that ate the canarie, like he got his cake and ate it too. Which, apparently he did. Warren couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his chest at the thought.

"I said that I made love to - "

"Yeah, don't use that term."

Will looked at him confused, "What? Made love?"

"Yeah, that. Girls use that term, boys don't."

Will just rolled his eyes at the older boy, it wasn't the first time Warren had to keep up his image of cool, even if on one was watching, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last. "Okay, whatever, I don't care. Use whatever terminology you want, dude, I did it! With Layla! And she was willing!"

Warren sat back, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk set in place. "So, how was it?"

Will looked down at the table in front of him, that naughty boy smile present once again. Things were about to get interesting. "Amazing. I, I mean I know it was our first time and we were clumsy and uncomfortable, but before that I mean...wow."

Warren raised a brow, "Wow?"

Will nodded, "Yeah, I mean seriously, she did things to me that I only used to dreamed about."

Now things were getting interesting, who knew Green Peace had it in her. He chuckled, "Nice man. So, I guess you and her will be protesting more often then?"

Will just shrugged his shoulders, "Hopefully, but I don't want to pressure her into anything, you know?"

Warren nodded, thinking of Misha, for not the first time today. He knew exactly what Will was talking about, he could've had his way with her that night, could've maneuvered in there, getting her to say yes somehow. But he didn't, sure he wasn't that much of a douche bag anyway, but he still could've tried to have gotten his way, and usually he would have tried. Yet with her, he didn't, when she said no, that meant no. He was still contemplating her, still trying to figure out a way to get to her, to Dark Alessa. This wasn't something to tred lightly with, he knew that much, but he wasn't sure just how to go about things, how did one extract evil from anothers soul?

"Yeah, I know."

Will quirked his head to the side, looking a Warren for the first time since he arrived at the Paper Lantern, really looked at him. He looked, perplexed...and tired.

"You okay dude? You look like somethings on your mind."

Warren wasn't sure if he should tell Will, he had promised Misha that he wouldn't utter a word of it to anyone and he knew that if he did she would stand by on her threat. But, he was just so...confused on what to do about everything. In the moment he had felt righteous and vengeful for her, it had felt so right to promise himself that he would free her of whatever was taking hold of her. Yet, now...now he wasn't sure what he was suppose to do.

He liked her, alot. More that any girl he'd ever known, which felt so foreign to him, like he knew what came next and it scared him more than anything. He knew that given time he would come to love her, the kind of love that drove people to the brink of insanity, and he found that he was almost willing to accept that, which scared him even more.

Looking at Will's concerned face he knew that he could confide in the younger boy, if not all of it then at least some of it, who knew maybe Will could help him figure out how to expel Alessa...

"What do you know about demonic possession?"

* * *

She was sitting in the waiting room, her leg bouncing, her fingers twisted in her already tousled hair, she hated hospitals, hated waiting rooms, and she especially hated waiting. She already knew the bad news about her condition, she didn't understand why she was forced to come back to his hospital on the other side of the country from where they were staying, just so some doctor who didn't know a thing about her could let her know that she was dying. And this time, she wasn't being over dramatic, she was actually and literally dying. Joy.

She could feel Gregory shifting beside her, trying to find some sort of comfortable position on the hard chairs. He was such a good brother, sometimes she felt as though she took him for granted, and she did. She couldn't imagine her life without him and Alessa knew that, she was so afraid that one day Alessa would break the constraints that she had put the dark girl in, deep inside her mind, and that she would kill her brother because she loved him so much.

That was a thought she had often, it called to her like a dream and she knew it was Alessa's siren song, trying to urge her into a blood lust. The urge was becoming stronger these days, it was getting harder to fight Alessa off, and she supposed that's what was killing her. For Alessa was such a powerful girl, maybe it was all of her power that was killing her body, and maybe she just wasn't strong enough to fight it.

"Evans?" The feeble looking nurse called, "The doctor will see you now."

She looked over at her brother who smiled warmly at her, or attempted too anyway, before hauling herself up off the crappy chair and following the nurse to the doctor's office. She looked at Gregory confused, they were being led to the doctor's office and not an exam room, which was strange, she didn't even know who this doctor was.

"He'll be right in, please have a seat."

They walked into the room, the nurse left the door open and walked away, they looked at each other before Gregory took a seat in front of the desk. Misha stood, looking at the nondescript pictures on the walls, her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers toying with the ends of her curls. If they were going to make her wait then why move her from the waitingroom? It didn't matter where she was, she still would've been nervous and impatient, and for some odd reason she couldn't help but wish that Warren was there.

"Hello, hello. Sorry for the hold up, there was a matter of urgency that I had to attend to - "

She whipped around, her pale eyes widening, her mouth dropping open, "Doctor Rivers?"

The ageing man smiled softly at her from where he stood by the doorway to his office, he was older then she remembered, his thin hair now greying, as was his short beard, his glasses still perched on the middle of his nose, and his turquoise eyes still warm. She hadn't seen the good doctor since she was thirteen, since her parents had died - scratch that, murdered. By her.

"Misha. My, how you've grown."

It was true, the Misha that stood before him looked nothing and everything like the young teenage girl he remembered. She stood so very tall, so thin with such long legs, and wild hair that curled and waved around her in a tousled simplicity. No, nothing like he remembered. But, her pale eyes were still so haunted, so eerily knowing.

"Why don't you come have a seat next to your brother and we'll get started, we have much to talk about, and I'm sure you'll be wanting to know every last detail that I possess."

He smiled that comforting, warm smile that he used to give her as a child, and if he still knew anything about her than he knew that it would work. Which it did, she slowly came and sat down next to Gregory, who looked oddly perplexed at the sight of the good doctor's presence. He opened the file and began to pursue the page, looking for the spot that he had marked for the two of them to read first.

"Now, tell me Misha, would you be opposed to psychotropic drugs?"

Doctor Rivers looked up from the file to the pair before him, Misha just raised a brow and threw her one leg over the other.

"I dunno Doc, you tell me."

He sighed, he had almost forgotten how stubborn the girl could be, this was going to be a long session.


End file.
